Tell Me Who I Was
by lSilverFoxl
Summary: He sees what he is now and while he knows his own origins… Sometimes, he needs to be reminded of all that he's been through to appreciate what he has now. [Oneshot] Male Philippines OC under the name Emilio


**Tell Me Who I Was**

* * *

 **Summary: He sees what he is now and while he knows his own origins… Sometimes, he needs to be reminded of all that he's been through to appreciate what he has now. [Oneshot] Male Philippines OC under the name Emilio**

 _ **In honour of the Philippines Independence Day, I figured I should commemorate it with a nice fanfiction. Enjoy.**_

* * *

Emilio can't help but smile as he scrolled through Facebook. His people were all celebrating Independence Day with food and love. He can feel the pride of his people glowing within him, the logo of Google being fitted to change for Philippine Independence Day. But this day is also a reminder of the pain and the strife he had to go through for this. With a deep breath, he did what he always did during this day.

He remembered.

With eyes closed, he can remember the taste of copper blood, watching his people gather under a banner. _(Not the flag he has now. No. It is a flag of resistance. A sign that says he shall not back down.)_ Then they gave themselves a name. They called themselves the _Kataas-taasan Kagalang-galangan Katipunan ng mga Anak ng Bayan_. He had joined them and they knew who he was almost immediately. He smiled at them. He remembers their faces well. He remembers their names, their hopes, their _dreams_. They had sworn to him then that they will see that he will be free from the shackles of Spain.

He called them the Katipunan for short, Emilio had complained that they chose a mouthful and while he appreciates them, appreciates what they are doing; he won't bother to call the organization by their full name. He can remember their smiling faces, their laughter, their acceptance of this. They knew that this will go down in history one way or another. They knew they were either damning their land or saving it.

 _(He remembers the weary eyes and the clenched fists. The blood stains on the streets and the flags raised high. The roar of battle pounding in his ears, if he wanted to be ironic, he could liken it to the first battle he had against Spain with Lapu-Lapu and his men, who managed to drive out the Spanish the first time. Now if only Spain didn't come back a second time.)_

Emilio can remember Spain's treatment. As he digs back a bit further he can remember the death of a man who sparked a revolution.

Jose Rizal shall forever be remembered.

He remembers the sound of the gun shot that forever silenced the man who spoke up. He remembers the last letter that spoke of his love for his country. He had been flattered in between watching the people fall into sadness. That had been…a mixture of emotions. But that is neither here nor there because something happened. _(they were found, someone had confessed their existence and they had to move quickly.)_

Then they tore their _cedulas,_ crying to the sky their will and determination. He was there with them, crying for his freedom, crying for something he barely remembered as if chasing a hazy dream. They had nothing to give and nothing to lose anymore. All they had was their will to fight, the will to fight for them, for their families, for _him._

Never had he felt so loved than ever before.

Their banner is as red as the blood that had been spilt when America came along.

At first he was wary yet he became grateful for America's intervention. Then he became angry. He had been angry, the simmering coals and betrayal had been echoing, begging for him to get revenge because he had been lied to.

America was not there to free him but to enslave him once more.

 _(He remembers tears and anger boiling in his blood. He had hoped and wished and prayed but in the end he was merely sold like an item that has lost its uses and changed to the hands of another. As if he was a mere trinket that lost its luster. Never, has he ever felt like an item until he learnt he was sold.)_

That reality then came with another promise of war. Another fight to be had for the freedom he desired. He remembered the things America had done to villages, blocking them in to starve them slowly, the torture they had done on his men, he had felt it as intimately as he felt the cold kiss of metal underneath his palms and the way it moved to spill more blood. He remembered being a part of the Luna Sharpshooters, sniping down enemies one by one with the knowledge that America can sense every death.

He remembers losing.

America had cornered him. He ran away as fast as he could but America caught up to him, still fresh and determined to end this war on the winning side. He was on a mountain pass alongside his general as they escaped together. Escaped to where, Emilio did not know-or perhaps, he had forgotten, the place forgotten in the sands of time. America had him cornered, his back to a wall and a gun in the face. That was when he had admitted defeat.

Then it simply became the American occupation. The people understood that they have lost. They then began to appeal because America, oh America had been using him as a base. He was worried that America would make him a state. But he had relaxed around him, used to his presence already. Even now though, he sometimes trusts America more than he should.

Then America relaxed around him and began training him to eventually take over his independence. This was called the Common Wealth Period, a ten year period where America would show him how to be independent. He finally trusted America then. He didn't forget but he…tentatively forgave. And it worked, he had another president, an election was held and America was now helping him grow.

Then World War Two happened.

Japan had waltzed in preaching about how Asia must stick together in order to rid them of Western influence. His president was a puppet to be used, his media carefully trafficked. Their money was Japanese issued. In fact a single duck egg was seventy-five pesos then. Some people have taken to calling it 'Mickey Mouse Money'. He sighed. Japan had been…brutal.

 _(He remembers Japan as a child. They traded though he most often than not, traded with China. He remembers seeing Japan and asking him if he will invade only for Japan to stay silent. He knew then, that Japan was not going to be a true ally. Not in this time, not in this war. He knows that Japan still regrets it even today, the man understands when he makes mistakes and he still apologizes and continues to do what he can to compensate. Emilio's not sure what to do sometimes.)_

He recalled many things, horrible things. The Bataan Death March comes to mind. He had the route still traced on his back. Burned into his skin as a scar of that part of the Japanese Occupation, he was there too. He recalled the fact that the prisoners were treated as if they were animals. They were tortured, starved, the wounded not even healed. Those that played dead became dead as they made sure to stab the corpse just to be safe.

He recalls the men, who escaped through the skin of their teeth, jumping in rivers and running as fast as they could despite their exhaustion. He was with America during that time, he recalled faintly. It was a harsh time for both of them there while he knew the women were being abused. The two of them watched as their people, their soldiers were beaten to the ground or forced to grovel and beg for something as simple as drinking water.

 _(He doesn't want to remember the roads soaked in blood when he so much as walks through that place. In his mind's eye, he can see grass splattered red and bodies lining the sides. He doesn't want to remember the shadowed eyes or the heart clenching cries. No one wants to remember the truly human atrocities committed beyond the knowledge that it had happened. The vividness-the truly solid aspect where he watched men fall in exhaustion, watched recently fallen allies get stabbed to make sure he stays dead.)_

Emilio somehow escaped alongside America. The two of them running off to join the battle once more, this time they had won, pushing out Japan from the country, his freedom was finally won. Then slowly, America left as well, his bases became cities, his home now his to call his own.

And his it has become.

Every mistake, every celebration, it became his. They went through president after president, some corrupt others merely tainted. Then President Magsaysay entered humbly, always willing to have a drink with the farmers and ready to listen for any sorts of trouble. He knew this man would make a wave in his country, he was so kind. He cared with his heart and poured in his soul into doing his best. His reign was the cleanest, the least-corrupt and he welcomed it with open arms.

He died the moment he blinked his eyes.

The passage of time never truly bothered him. It felt like a blink when in reality it was three years. Then after another group of presidents another one stood out. His name being Ferdinand Marcos, a charismatic and intelligent man and if Emilio is being honest, a person he has no idea what to make of. His first term brought an innovation, the invention of Miracle Rice. He knew they were being brought to another period but a period of what, exactly; he needed to wait and see.

That's when he saw the country go into Martial Law. There were curfews in place, the military loyal and people going missing. His people were divided in opinion. Some adored him while others feared him. Then the man's rival, Benigno Aquino Jr. was assassinated and people grew suspicious. To cover this up, he silenced the media. His people went from simply being missing to be confirmed to have been killed.

Human rights violations, the people knew this and they rose up to rebel against this dictatorship.

Men and women, old and young flooded the streets of EDSA protesting peacefully against his reign. Emilio chanting with the people, his eyes warily watching the guards who are so loyal to the man they would take a bullet to the head for him. But they didn't do anything. No one was murdered, no one was shot, and Emilio understood then that this peaceful revolution will push through with not a single drop of blood.

Marcos stepped down and the person to take his place would be Corazon Aquino, the widowed wife of the late Benigno Aquino Jr.

This Emilio knew, would change the power of the President to ensure this wouldn't happen again. He skipped passed the rest of the reigns and the presidents, their times blurring together quickly. He opened his eyes, looking fondly at the sunlight coming through the window. The sun has risen. He can hear the crows of roosters greeting the sun and all he can do is sit back and watch it rise.

Here he is, living and breathing the spirit of the people, they who've done as much as they could for him, so that he could continue to grow and thrive. Such a thing that he would only dream about if he was in the past is now a reality born from blood, sweat and tears.

Emilio is forever as grateful to his people as they are of him. And while he may be having problems, he is still happy and alive. He can continue to smile and dance and sing with all his heart. His people have gone through many things, they're allowed the chance to rediscover themselves after having their identity change and switch for the most part.

He's managing to find his culture, his roots and his home. He knows that his mother, Ancient Philippines must be watching him proudly. A strong wind blew through the land, his flag whipping around high above the ground. He can't help the smile on his lips.

 _(Sometimes he wonders if he'll ever actually manage to recover his heritage to the highest esteem. It's hard to find it when it's a faint memory, barely a hum in the back of his mind. Yet today, he can hear it loud and proud like a symphony that no other could play but he. He is grateful that they won't forget much like he has.)_

He knows that sometimes it's hard for him to remember the past. Sometimes he lies in bed, mind blank from another nightmare. Sometimes he sits up, curled in a ball, remembering too much at once.

But on this day, he _has_ to remember. He has to remind himself of just how far he has come as a country, growing with his people in their independence. Independence that they had fought for so long, Emilio is proud to say that he is the personification of this country because he feels as proud of his people as they are of him.

"Happy Independence Day," He whispered to the open air. A smile on his lips with his eyes locked on the waving flag.

* * *

 **Yay! Happy Independence Day Philippines! Now, Male! Philippines here because I wanted to use the name Emilio :P Now, I realized I basically just typed down the history that I do remember of this country while putting in emotions. Still, I hope it was actually a good read! Now because it's been a while since I read any history book, the details of a lot of things are hazy, so if there was anything that I got wrong or missed due to my forgetfulness I'm sorry. Other than that, I hope you have a nice day! (Or night!)**


End file.
